Just Like Sister

America's Baby Bottle

Doctor Strange strode into the living room, a stack of ancient scrolls in his hands. As he took off his cloak and settled into his favorite armchair, he noticed America Chavez sitting on the couch, a frown etched on her face.

"Something troubling you, my dear?" he asked, concern lacing his voice.

America looked up, her brows furrowed. "Dad, can I talk to you about something?" she asked tentatively.

"Of course," Doctor Strange replied, setting the scrolls aside and giving America his undivided attention.

"Well, it's just... I've noticed that Baby Magic gets to drink milk from a baby bottle," America said, her voice tinged with a note of jealousy.

Doctor Strange looked taken aback, and a hint of amusement danced in his eyes. It was not a question he had expected from his teenage daughter. "Ah, yes," he chuckled. "Baby Magic is still very young, and it's natural for her to drink from a bottle at her age."

"But why can't I have one too?" America's voice carried a hint of longing.

Doctor Strange paused, considering his response. He had always marveled at America's fierce and confident nature, the way she wore her superpowers with pride and an unyielding determination. The question of a baby bottle seemed so out of character for her.

"Well, my dear, you are seven years older than Baby Magic," Doctor Strange began, his tone gentle. "You have grown beyond the need for a baby bottle, both physically and emotionally. As we grow up, we learn and acquire new skills, gaining independence along the way."

America nodded, though a touch of disappointment still lingered in her eyes.

"But," Doctor Strange continued, a teasing sparkle in his voice, "I must admit, the novelty of drinking from a bottle can be quite enticing."

America's face brightened with hope as she looked at her father. "So... you mean, I can have one?"

Doctor Strange chuckled again. "Well, I suppose there's no harm in indulging your whims from time to time. But remember, my dear, it's important to recognize the line between nostalgia and growing up."

America smiled, her excitement palpable. "Thank you, Dad!" she exclaimed, already planning her request for a baby bottle.

Doctor Strange couldn't help but smile at his daughter's enthusiasm. Life as a sorcerer provided him with endless challenges and responsibilities, but in that moment, a simple request for a baby bottle reminded him that even the most powerful heroes had moments of innocent joy.

And so, with a wave of his hand, Doctor Strange conjured a mystical baby bottle, a shimmering purple and gold creation that matched America's vibrant personality. As he handed it to her, a small twinge of magic flickered within, as if the bottle itself recognized the significance of this moment.

America hugged the baby bottle tightly, her smile widening. "Thank you, Dad. This means a lot to me."

Doctor Strange nodded affectionately. "You're welcome, my dear. Embrace your journey of growth and power, but never forget to relish the simple pleasures along the way."

With newfound contentment, America settled onto the couch, cradling her magical baby bottle, knowing that while she continued to navigate the complexities of her extraordinary abilities, she also had the freedom to cherish the small moments of childhood that made her heart sing.